Forgotten Mother
by AprilSky17
Summary: Long ago, a mother gave birth to healthy twins, identical boys, and she loved them with all her heart. But they were stolen away from her, and the two sons never saw their beloved mother again. In the end, the boys grew up to become powerful, but in order to do so, they had to forget their loving mother. This is that story, the story of Native America and her sons.
1. Prologue

My time was coming. The baby would come soon, I could feel it. I made my way to the place I had prepared for the birthing, walking slowly, cradling my bulging stomach. Every time I had a child, I always, always returned to the same spot. It was in the shadows of a mighty oak tree, so old I couldn't remember a time when it wasn't there. The ground below is soft and springy, and a little brook can be heard nearby. The exposed roots of the tree form a perfect cradle for the new child, and a good resting place for any tired person.

I gently knelt down. My people hardly ever laid down when birthing. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I wasn't scared. I had birthed dozens of children before. Not scared, no, but more like anxious. The pregnancy had weighed heavily on me, more difficult than any other I've experienced. Would the child be born right?

Mother comforted me, though. I could hear her voice in the rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds. She held my hands through the soft moss, and kissed my face with the breeze. We could never really see the Mother, but we know she is always there, in the flowers and the face of the moon. She is the sun, but she is also the stars at night. She was the hunting wolf and the fleeing deer, life and death, joy and sorrow, creation and destruction. She is the balance between things, she is nature in whole. And Mother loves her children very, very much, just as we all love her.

I breathed in, looking up. The sky was red and orange with dawn, and the greens leaves gave a beautiful contrast against the fiery sky. The world was peaceful and still, as if waiting to welcome the new baby. Releasing my pent-up breath, I closed my eyes, and prepared.

A newborn's cry broke the silence. I reopened my eyes.

The shadows had changed. They were on the opposite side of things, and were much longer. It was dusk, the moment where the sun dies over the horizon and is reborn in the morning. What does that mean?

I shook my head. It was foolish. I hadn't even seen my child yet, and was already making wild predictions that wouldn't come true. Carefully, I pushed myself up. Mother's messengers had already cut the umbilical cord, and I could see their eyes flashing at the outskirts of the light. Most likely wolves. I could see the silver flash of their teeth and hear their soft growls. They may seem menacing to some, but I wasn't worried. I myself had lived with a pack of wolves for some time, and they remained my closest friends throughout the years. I knew they would never harm the baby. My time with them showed me what true family love is like, and with each of my children I try to give them the same love my mother wolf gave to me. A wolf mother would do anything for the protection of her pups, even if she puts her own life at risk. I teach my children never to fear the wolves, that they are our brothers, that they teach us many things, to never fail to show them respect.

I stood up and stretched my tired muscles. The inside of my legs were coated in blood, but I would wash them later. Now, I only wanted to see my little baby. I had waited long enough, throughout the longs months he stayed inside me. Dropping down onto my hands and knees, I saw my child for the first time.

...I was confused. He was too bulky, oddly disformed. There was too many limbs, and the head was huge. Things jutted out from awkward angles, and the parts of him didn't move in synch. Was their something wrong with it? Never, in all my longs years, had I seen something like this. I was afraid. What would I do with this child?

No. Not my child, as in singular. My children. With a soft gurgle, they separated themselves, almost reluctantly. Two healthy boys, twins, so alike it was like one was the reflection off a pond, wrapped around each other like cats. One began to wail loudly, and thrashed about like a fish out of water, little hands already in fists. He kicked his feet and punched the air, like the world had suddenly made him angry. I was afraid he would hurt his twin, but my fears were for nothing. The other one withstood all the accidental blows from his brother, and didn't make a sound. He just stared at the world around him, taking it all in. At the trees, at the wolves in the shadows, the darkening sky, and finally, his mother. Once he saw me, his eyes lit up and he reached for me, palms outstretched.

But I didn't pick him up. It's terrible, but I was afraid to touch him. They didn't look like my children. Their skin was a snowy white, a shade I had never seen on any man, woman, or infant. Their eyes were a faultless blue, blue like the sky, blue like the ocean, a familiar colour but foreign on a human. And the tiny fuzz on the tops of their heads was not a dark brown, but a golden blonde. If I hadn't just birthed them, I would've said they weren't mine.

But they were mine. And no matter how strange they looked, they were my children, and they needed their mother. I took the thrashing baby into my arms first. He immediately stopped moving, and snuggled against me peacefully. I laughed quietly. "Is that all you wanted, little baby? A little attention?" He didn't answer, and I didn't expect him to. His twin though, on the ground, perked his ears in response to my voice. I shifted the little-thrasher in my arms so I could pick up his twin up. "Little babies..." I cooed. My voice was hoarse, but that was only natural.

The quieter brother reached up and caressed my face with his tiny hand, and almost laughed. At that moment, all of my doubts went away. He was for sure my baby, mine."Matoskah." White Bear. The name seemed to fit. His skin was so pale it looked white, and he had the odd qualities of a bear. Matoskah seemed happy enough with it, so Matoskah it was. My little bear cub.

I turned my attention to the other, the little-thrasher. He was the larger of the two, though not by much. There was something almost solemn in his expression. He looked like someone who would fight, just like he did the moment he was born. I knew the perfect name for him. "Akecheta." Fighter. Something told me he would have to fight. Fight to earn the respect because of his looks. Fight to protect his little brother. And who knows what else might come in his future?

The two began to suckle. Gradually, the wolves left us, and the birds quieted down as the forest went to sleep. We still sat there together, us three, the mother and her sons, in the darkening rays of the dying sun. I sang to my babies, the same song I have sung to all my previous children, a song passed down through generations, a song so old I remember Mother singing it to me when I was young an alone.

I love you, my baby,

Sleep now, for me,

Goodnight, sweet baby

Fly away with your dreams

Let sleep take you,

Take you from the fears,

Shelter you from the night,

Wipe away your tears

Night has fallen softly here,

The stars twinkle bright above,

But morning light is soon near,

So do not fear, my precious love

Akecheta and Matoskah went to sleep, but I stayed awake. I couldn't ignore the little nagging thoughts at the back of my mind, about how this could be a terrible terrible omen of things to come. I tried not to take it for a sign, but nagging thoughts at the back of my mind remained: This birth would mean my fall.

I lifted my head to the stars. "Mother, please help me."

* * *

Before Matoskah and Akecheta were born, I used to spend weeks, months, even years alone, wandering the land, never sleeping in the same place twice, without another living human to talk to. I would cook my meals I caught myself on a solitary fire, and eat in silence. I would go to bed at night alone, and wake up without a single person there. Sometimes I was so lonesome, I would stare at myself in any body of water just to look at a human's face, or speak with the echoes that answered me back. The only breaks between those lonely periods was if I even had another child, which hadn't happened for a very long time, or if I met one of my people. I would occasionally come across of of the clans or tribes of my previous children, and there would be a huge celebration in my honour. For a short time, I would laugh and dance and be with my people, and spend peaceful nights just listening to their breathing around me. I would be merry, my heart would be light, but eventually I would have to leave, and continue on my lonesome with only Mother by my side.

The land was so vast, and the people so scattered, I rarely saw the same face twice. They all grew old and died, as everything does, while I carried on. Me and me direct children have lived for many, many years, too many to count, old souls trapped in a eternal body. I, of course, was the oldest, me being the mother. My memory goes back to when the woolly mammoths thundered across the land, and the world was made up of eternal snow and ice. My first children learned to survive in that world, as Mother and myself taught them to. As more years passed, the more and more children I had, the more and more the land became populated, the more and more the world thawed and became green. Soon, there were thriving villages dotted all across the continent. All of my sons and daughters decided to stay with their own clans, and I respected their wishes, even if it left me alone.

The birth of my new sons sparked a new life in me. Every glance at them filled my heart with joy. Sometimes, I was content just to lay on the ground for hours, watching them sleep. Soon enough, the grew up, and they grew fast. They would wander aimlessly about on their knees, faces shining with glee whenever they would find something new. No matter how far they went, I was never worried that they would harm themselves. If they were like me or their brothers and sisters, they couldn't be harmed as easily as normal humans. No matter what they did, the boys did it together. They were absolutely inseparable, since the moment they were born. Although Matoskah was a bit more timid than his older brother, they still got along fine, even if Akecheta bullied him a little.

Never in my lifetime had I ever seen such a bond between brothers. I only hoped their relationship wouldn't change as they grew up, like some of my children before them. Now they were grown up, some would fight, others would make peace. And I would let them do it. They were all grown, and they had to make decisions for themselves. It still pained my though, whenever I came across a bloody battlefield or a burnt village. Why must my children fight one another?

The landscape may have changed, and maybe we did a bit too, but deep down, we were the same as we were centuries ago. We were just happy the ways things were, and wouldn't change the ways things were, and nothing would ever, ever change that.

Until the white men came.

* * *

_So, how's that for the first chapter? This my first story on FanFiction, and I have little or no idea what the heck I'm doing, so sorry if it isn't the greatest. Just bear with me, okay?_

_I thought, instead of making Gaho the representation of just ONE Native North American tribe, why not make her almost like the spirit of Native North Americans? Why not make her children the native tribes? So, I did that, but I'm not quite sure how it working out. Good, I hope!_

_Just a quick disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (though I wish I did)! I do not own any of the characters, except for some OCs__. _

_Thus in no way is meant to be offensive to anyone or taken as such, so if there is something in here that offends someone, please let me know. I understand that there may be somstereotypes and inaccurate facts, but I'll do my best to avoid those. Please please correct me if I do anything that you find offensive!_

_Also, keep in mind that some of the historical facts may not be completely accurate (trust me when I saw that I did do research on the subjects). But remember: This is only fiction. I did not mean for it to be exactly 100% true-to-life._

_And lastly, if anyone has any critics, thing I should've done, change, add, ideas, whatever, please, tell me! I love to hear what other people have to say on my stories, and see what I can do to make them better!_


	2. Chapter One

*Warning* Just some minor gore in this chapter*

A lone woman crouched in the shadows, her eyes narrowed, zoomimg in on her prey doe. She crept forward, gliding silently across the forest floor. The way she moved was almost feral. She was a mountain lion, stalking her prey, trending carefully on her silent feet, watching the doe intently. She inch forward, not daring to make a sound, hardly even breathing. Not even the crackle of forest leaves could be heard beneath her feet. It was lie the whole forest was waiting, taking a deep breath of anticipation. The world was waiting.

The woman slowly nocked an arrow in her bow.

The doe lifted her head and froze.

The winds had changed direction. Instead of it flowing from the direction of the deer, it changed, so now the woman's scent was wafting up to the doe. It turned to flee away from the danger, a natural instinct passed down through her blood. Another heartbeat and it would be gone, vanished into the underbrush. In the same instant the doe turned to run, the woman raised her bow and let loose. One heartbear, and arrow tip embedded itself into the doe's neck, going deep. She fell heavily to the ground, eyes and breathing wild As she struggled to hold on.

The woman whooped and ran toward her kill, stepping into the light of the clearing, where she was illuminated. She was a very beautiful woman, by appearance quite young, with straight black hair, dark as a raven's wing, that hung down her back like a curtain. Her eyes, framed by dark lashes, were a dark brown. But it wasn't a murky, sluggish shade of brown, rather the type you think of when you hear the word 'warmth' or 'alive'. Her face was round and full like a pearl, with prominent cheekbones and a straight nose. Around her neck she wore a necklace made of different colours of beads and seashells, a gift once given from a chieftain. She wore a simple dress made of various animal skins and furs, with a rawhide belt used for carrying many things around her waist.. She wasn't overly curvy, but had a very fit body which most people strive for. Her flawless skin was a bronzish-red, and it shone in the sunlight. She could be the type of woman woman which would strike envy in models hearts and make men drool. She could be a famous celebrity, which everyone looks up upon. Only, there was no models during her time. And no men around to admire her (not like she wanted them anyway). And she didn't care about fame, or fortune, or appearance. In her mind, beauty was not measured in looks, but in heart and compassion. In either way you look at it, whether in spirit or looks, she was very lovely.

Bringing out her hunting knife, the woman knelt beside the deer. She murmured a prayer for the doe, thanking her for her life and praying that her spirit finds peace. Quickly, as the not make the animal suffer anymore than neccesary, the woman slit the deer's throat. With swift hands, she skinned the carcass, scraping it clean of flesh with her bone scraper. She washed the hide in a hollow oak stump to loosen the hairs, then strechted it out between two trees. With an expert hand, she sent to work scraping off the last of the hairs, then softened the hide with mashed deer brain. After a final round of soaking and drying, she had a good rawhide she could use for various things.

Between intervals when the hide was drying, she cut up all the meat into small pieces, and hung them over a fire to smoke. Once the strips were dry, she pounded them with a stone to make them thinner, the rolled the meat into small individual bundles, and placed them into a woven basket. The meat was delicious and filling, and would last her a long time.

The woman made sure to waste nothing. The innards she washed, and hung over a tree branch to dry. The liver she cut up into strips, the stomach would make a waterskin; the bladder a spare pouch; the guts would store nuts and other items. With the long back sinews, which she had saved during the butchering, she teased out the narrow fibres to would make thread, and rubbed them in fat to make them supple. Finally, she scraped the bones clean, and tied them into a bundle. They would be used for various things later, such as fish-hooks and arrowheads.

For some, butchering a deer could take days, but the woman was so experienced it only took her a matter of hours. Packing everything into her basket and tying the bundle of bones on top, the woman trotted off into the trees, leaving the scraps for the ravens.

Her camp wasn't very large. In fact, it was so small one could miss it easily. It was on a small level patch of ground, close to a small stream. The shelter was made of bent saplings tied together, with a small smoke-hole at the top. Sides were filled in with bracken and spruce boughs, and a small animal skin flap worked as a door.

The camp appeared abandoned, but the woman knew better. Stepping light on her feet, making no sound at all, she approached the shelter, and gently pressed her ear up against the side. Sure enough, she could hear the sound of childish giggling. The woman smiled, and crept silently toward the shelter's door. Laying down on her stomach gently, she peeked through a small hole at the bottom of the hide. Two smalls forms were inside, almost hidden through the shadows, crouched down on the floor. No doubt trying to ambush a certain someone.

Oh, but mothers can have some fun, too. Chuckling underneath her breath, the woman stomped her feet loudly, trying to make it sound like she had just returned. Almost immediately, she could hear quiet giggles and shushes from inside the shelter, and the pitter-patter of small feet. The woman smiled, and started to shuffle around on her hands and knees, while making bear noises. Silence came from the shelter.

She woman lumbered heavily to the entrance of the shelter, and started scratching at the ground. Just to add to it all, she boomed out: "Mama Bear can't find her cubs, where are the cubs of Mama Bear? Mama is very angry!" At the last word, she hit the side of the shelter. Not hard enough to break it, just enough to make it shake. The giggling started again.

And with that, the woman swung open the hide door and burst inside. "Where are Mama's cubs? Where is Akecheta? Where is little Matoskah?" she called out. Immediately, she was tackled by two warm bodies, which sent her off balance and onto the ground. She was laughing though, and her sons were laughing with her.

"Here we are, Gaho, here we are!" her sons shouted. The woman, Gaho, sat up and placed her sons on her lap. "We missed you! We were afraid you wouldn't come back!" whined one of the boys.

Gaho knew he was just wanting attention, but she kissed his head anyway. "Akecheta, you know by now that I will always return." She gave his hair a gentle tug, nuzzled the other son, then went out to retrieve the basket with their food.

Later on that night, they were sitting by the fire, bellies full and hearts content. Akecheta and Matoskah were snuggled up in their mother's lap, and she was rocking them back and forth, singing their lullaby softly. Days often passed like this for them, full of leisure and joy. But, what they didn't know, is that that would be one of their last nights of peace together, and that their world was soon to be shaken.

I love you, my baby,

Sleep now, for me.

Goodnight, sweet baby,

Fly away with your dreams

* * *

_For some who didn't quite catch it:  
_

_Gaho (means 'Mother')- Native North America_

_Akecheta ('Fighter')- United States (America)_

_Matoskah ('White Bear')- Canada_

_I'll update as soon as I can!_


	3. Chapter Two

The light was green. Buds poked out from the soft ground, and the trees were alive with the sound of insets and singing birds. New signs of life were everywhere, from the small leaves on the branches, to the flittering butterflies that passed them. It was springtime on the east coast, one of Gaho's favorite seasons, with summer rapidly approaching. Gaho led her sons along beside her, walking along an old a deer trail through the spring forest. She was taking her sons to visit one of their elder sisters, which lived along the east coast with her people.

It was a slow pace. Both Gaho and Matoskah were feeling sore, but Gaho covered it up with smiles for her boys, and even offered to carry Matoskah's sack, which he graciously accepted. Akecheta kept on running ahead of his brother and mother, to find interesting things in the forest. "Gaho!" He called to her often. "Gaho, look this!" And Gaho would rush ahead to him, with Matoskah following behind. Gaho never lost her patience, and eagerly shared Akecheta's discoveries. This cycle would continue over and over, as they would gradually made along.

One time, Akecheta found something much more exciting than a weird-coloured mushroom or a little forest snake. "Gaho! Gaho!" He shouted over his shoulder. "Gaho! Come quick!"

Gaho was beside him in a flash. "What is it it? What did you find!" Akecheta eagerly pointed up at the tops of the trees, which were swaying in the slight breeze above them. Gaho squinted her eyes and tried to follow where her son's finger pointed. "I'm sorry, Akecheta, but I just can't see what's there..."

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind shook the trees, which caused Gaho's eyes to be drawn to a speck of brown fluttering amongst the leaves. "Gaho," Akecheta breathed, eyes open with wonder, "what is that?" Up above, high, high up at the very top of the tree, perched a bird unlike anything Akecheta had ever seen before. Well, he'd seen similar ones, but not quite like this one. There was a certain air of magnificence surrounding it, in the regal way it held its head, or the way it maneuvered itself with grace. It's body was covered with dark brown feathers except for the head and tail, which were a pearly white. To him, it looked proud and strong and fearsome, like a ruler of the skies. The bird was entrancing, and Akecheta couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"It's amazing..."

"That," Gaho said, resting her hananon her son's head gently, "is a bird with many, many names, Akecheta. An _anúnkasan, ta la'ko, aríhta- _a bald eagle. And I'm impressed! Great eye for spotting it!"

Matoskah, finally having caught up with his mother and brother, pouted. "I-I almost pointed it out too! He just beat me to it, that's all!"

Gaho chucked Matoskah under the chin. "Of course, Matoskah, of course."

He crossed his arms. "I was gonna, I swear! I just- Look! It's flying away!" So it was. The eagle had spread it wings and was now airborn, flapping away above them.

"Gaho, make it come back!" cried Akecheta, reaching out with his hands as if he could grab the bird. "Make it stop flying and come back here!" He looked up at his mother, eyes desperate. She didn't react, instead just watched as the eagle became a faraway speck in the blue sky.

Akecheta flung out his hands in the direction of the eagle, exasperated, and opened his mouth the say something. Quick as a sticking snake, Gaho put her finger to his lips, shushing him. She bent down and looked Akechta dead in the eye, so intense even Matoskah backed away a little. "Akecheta." He wouldn't met her gaze. "That was a free bird, Akecheta, and it has it's own free will. It could not, and should not, be forced to do anything against it doesn't wish to. If it wants to fly away, then let it fly away. There was nothing I could've done to stop it, so I do not need an attitude from you. Do you understand?" Akecheta, still looking down, nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. To be free like that, to go wherever you pleased...It just seemed like a pretty good life.

"Good." Gaho took Akecheta and Matoskah by hand. "In that case, let's keep walking. We still have a ways to go."

Later on in the day, a little while after noon, they reached the end of the forest. Beyond the tree line was a small clearing of grass, then beyond that was the beach and the ocean. The water was a majestic deep blue, with the occasional white crest of waves. The sand lining the water was a light brown colour, small shells dotting its surface. Seagulls screeched over their heads, and the light wind carried the smell of salt and seaweed.

Akecheta and Matoskah took it all and for once, Akecheta didn't have a loud comment to make (possibly because he was still smarting a little from his previous lecture), and was silent beside his brother. Gaho looked down at her children, and laughed quietly. "That, my sons," she whispered, as if it was a great secret. "That is the ocean."

Matoskah stared out across its vastness silently, with his eyes opened wide with awe. Akecheta, however, snapped out of his silence and covered his ears. "Why is it so loud?! And so big?" He yelled. "Gaho, why did you bring us to this noisy, smelly place?!"

Gaho gently peeled his hands away from his ears. "Attitude, Akechta. Watch it. There, over thee, that's why." With one of her slender fingers, she pointed a little aways from them, up the beach.

Little ways away from the sand, up against a small grass hill close the the beach, lay a collection of small conical huts. People bustled around , like bees in a hive, doing various things like drying or watching the children. They soon spotted Gaho, and before long a small crowd of people had gathered to welcome her, shouting and clapping jubilantly. Gaho waved to them, but walked forward very slowly, knowing her sons would be very timid. It was their first approaching such a large crowd of strangers. Matoskah clung to his mother's dress, peeking out at the crowd that had amassed before him. Akecheta tried to be brave and walk beside Gaho, but eventually even he lost his nerve and ended up like his brother.

Gaho stopped a few feet away from the crowd. They rushed forward to greet her, but she held up hand. With a clear voice, she addressed the crowd. "Hello, friends!" Just those two words caused an enormous uproar from the people, causing Akecheta and Matoskah to shrink back even more. Gaho smiled, and waited from them to quite down before continuing. "Is L'nu'k with you? Please, I must speak to my daughter." At the last word, Akecheta's and Matoskah's eyes opened wide. They had a sister? Another one? Against his will, Akecheta could feel a little stir of jealousy in his stomach. Matoskah was just to shocked to feel anything.

The crowd parted, and out appeared a young woman, almost identical to Gaho. Her hair was slightly curlier, though, and her eyes one shade lighter. She wore a robe, wrapped around her body like a towel, with a belt of seashells around her waist. She looked very young, but looks can be deceiving. Akecheta and Matoskah could see some sort of spark in her, one that immediately separated her from the others. What they didn't know, was that the spark was a soul of another eternal person, or nation. Whether or not they know what it meant, they could still recognize it.

"Gaho!" the woman rushed forward into her mother's arms, clearly delighted. Akecheta and Matoskah took a couple steps back, not sure how to react to this strange woman. They almost felt violated, in a way. Why did she have any right to hold their mother?

"L'nu'k!" Gaho exclaimed, kissing the top of her daughter's head. Holding her out at arms length, she examined her up and down. "Look at you! You've grown!"

L'nu'k laughed. "Stopped teasing, Gaho, you know that isn't true. Besides, it hasn't been that long. Only a hundred years or so." Gaho laughed with her.

She was about to reply, but Akecheta beat her to it. "Who are you? You're like us, aren't you?" He said it almost accusingly. Remember, he was still feeling jealous of the stranger that had distracted his mother's attention from him. Classic sibling rivalry.

L'nu'k looked down at him and his brother for the first time. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, stumbling back a couple steps. "Who... are they?"

Gaho scratched her head, like she knew this would happen. "They're my sons. And therefore, your brothers." L'nu'k opened her mouth, then closed it again, gaping like a fish.

After a awkward moment of silence, she collected herself. "Gaho, I must speak with you." She eyed Akecheta and his brother. "Alone."

Gaho scowled at her, but nodded, and turned toward her sons, kneeling down to their eye level. "Akecheta, Matoskah, can you play with the other little boys while I talk with your sister?" Matoskah looked uncertain, but Akecheta nodded.

"Yes we can, Gaho." He said it with such confidence, Gaho couldn't help but smile. She turned to go, but Matoskah rushed forward to grip her hand. "Gaho, I still feel sore." He spoke quietly, almost ashamed.

"I know, Matoskah. But be strong for me, okay." Matoskah bit his lip, but nodded. "Good boy." Gaho patted him on the head, before turning her back once more.

"Gaho!" Matoskah called. She looked back over her shoulder, eyes tired. "Yes?" He looked down at his hands. "Y-You'll come back, right?" He was trying to act brave, but his voice quavered a little. Gaho felt her heart fill with love"Of course, Akecheta, always." L'nu'k made a disgusted sound and disappeared into one of the huts, muttering something under her breath. Gaho shot glare in her direction, before ducking in after her daughter.

* * *

Sorry for not updating in **forever**! Really sorry about that, I just had a lot of things to do. Anyway, hopefully that won't happen again! How did you like the chapter?

Also, I'm terribly sorry if I didn't get the eagle's Natives names right, but I tried!

L'nu'k= What we know as Mik'maq


	4. Chapter Three

Inside the hut was a small fire and a couple of reed mats. The mats were bright colours, like red and blue and green. To the side was a small bag, with an axe on top. It was very cozy, very homey, inside the hut. Gaho could easily imagine a family living in here. in fact, she wondered who did live in this hut. Was it her daughter's?  
L'nu'k motioned for Gaho to sit down on one of the mats. She chose to one opposite from her daughter, across the fire. The tension between them was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them spoke to the other, or made any attempt to.

After about a quarter of an hour, L'nu'k sighed. "Mother, I'm sorry if I was rude." Gaho nodded, but she couldn't tell if she was accepting the apology or agreeing to the fact. Without waiting to find out which was which, she continued. "Gaho, I'm am! Truly! It's just that I'm concerned for you. I think the children you call your 'sons' will put you in terrible danger." Gaho made a sound to protest, but L'nu'k cut her off.

"A couple of weeks ago, while I was asleep, Gaho, Grandmother sent me a vision while I dreamt. I can't recall in very clearly- the images were too were too rapid for me to make much sense of them, but I will tell you what I can remember.

"It began with strange men coming to our shores, and digging into the earth and levelling the forest. They killed the animals and destroyed this beautiful land. Some of them were friendly and wanted peace. They gave us good things, but what they were I can't exactly remember. Eventually, more and more of them came, and they began to setup strange villages. They were unfriendly, these ones. They move further and further inland, destroying our homes and forcing us to leave. But they were not friendly to each other. Wars ravaged, and they forced us to pick sides. Also, they brought sicknesses we could not cure. We began to die by the thousands. At some point, even you died, Gaho. The men looked exactly like your sons, Gaho, same white skin, same pale hair. Your sons even helped the men do all of this. They helped kill you, and there was nothing we could do."

"Gaho," L'nu'k looked at her mother, eyes watery, tone caring. "I do not want you to die. It was unbearable to watch, even in my dreams." She reached over and took her mother's hands. "Please, Gaho. Please here me."

Gaho pulled away, and sighed. "L'nu'k, I am touched that you are concerned about me, and you know I love you very, very, much, but are you sure it was not just your imagination running wild? Why not we move to lighter talk instead, daughter? How are your brothers? I haven't the chance to visit them yet."

Anger sparked in L'nu'k eyes. We wouldn't her mother listen to her? Why was she treating it so lightly, like a joke? She was trying to warn her, trying to save her. Had she no courtesy to even try to listen?

"Do you remember to white men that visited us before? That came on the long canoes?" Her voice had lost its warmth, becoming sharp and brittle. Gaho ignored her daughter's tone, and thought for a while. Dimly, a memory came back to her, of an young man with snowy hair and purple eyes, who had stayed with her for a while. Once he had left, though, she had expected to never see him again, and had gradually forgotten. But no, she remembered nodded again. "I almost forgot about them. But yes, I do remember them now."

"Right." continued L'nu'k. "So then you must remember how one of them was like...us. Eternal, I mean. And even though they only stayed for a short while, even though for the most part they ignored us, one of them must have spread news to others. The first part of my dream is coming true, Gaho. White men like them have started arriving at our shores, and it isn't good."

L'nu'k sighed. "Gaho, do you remember Beothuk? My brother to the north, the one who lives on the island?"  
Gaho snorted. "I am not that forgetful, L'nu'k. Of course I remember him, he is my son."

L'nu'k bowed her head."I'm sorry Gaho, I meant no offense. What Im trying to tell you, is that men that look like your current sons landed on his island. Men like the ones that visited before, but this time, they were different. They meant to cultivate this land, all of it. They landed on Beothuk's island first. At the beginning, they were okay to him, and only wanted to fish in the summer. But then, more and more came, and they started stay the winters. They brought terrible diseases with them too, Gaho, none that we could cure. The newcomers turned hostile, too, and...Beothuk grew weak..." L'nu'k cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, Gaho, but... They killed Beothuk. They killed him." At the last word, L'nu'k voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands.

Gaho stared at her daughter, stunned. She wasnt sure how to handle this, how to process this information. "W-What? N-no, no...You can't be true, L'nu'k, you can't be!" She grabbed her daughter's shoulders, and began to shake verociously. "Tell me it isn't true! Tell me you're lying! Tell me!" L'nu'k lifted her head, tears streaming down her face. Her voice was quiet compared to Gaho's hoarse screaming.

"I'm so sorry, Gaho. I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." And then she took Gaho into her arms, like the roles had been reversed, and rocked and forth as Gaho wailed. She had never lost a child, never felt that amount of pain. Her children may have gotten injured, but never fatally. She could feel sympathy whenever a mother lost her child, but never expected it to happen to her. For the first time, and not the last, Gaho felt her heart break.

"My son! Oh, why? Why?" L'nu'k rested her head on Gaho's shoulder, and they cried together.

"I'm so sorry, Gaho, I'm so sorry, so sorry... He was my brother...Why did I fight with him?...Gone, gone..." She repeated, over and over, but Gaho could no longer hear her. She was wondering, how on earth this could happen to her? She was wondering, why on earth the men would kill her son? Why would they do this? How many more children she will have to lose to the white men and their quest for conquering her land? What will it costs her people if the white men take over? What about Matoskah and Akecheta, are they really evil? How should she now react to them? She no longer doubted L'nu'k's story. Mother would never send a false vision, she had just been pushing away the negative thought...

She was wondering why on earth she hadn't felt something, anything, to symbolize that Beothuk. was gone. A vision, anything? Maybe...the soreness she and Matoskah had been feeling? Maybe?

Gaho didn't feel her daughter's arms around her, she didn't feel her tears soaking into her shirt, she didn't feel anything. She wasn't there.  
She was a million miles away, lost out in space.


	5. Gaho and the Bison

Gaho and the Bison

_ "Be very still. Don't move, or you'll distract them." Gaho said to her boys gently. They were laying down on their stomachs, with the wind swishing through the surrounding prairie grass, making music. It was flat and endless, going on for miles and miles in any direction, grass and grass and even more grass. The only visible sgns of life were a herd of bison grazing nearby, closed to some small boulders. If you looked hard enough, you could see where the azure sky and the golden prairie met, at the very tip of the horizon. The sun was burning down from the cloudless sky above, forming hazy mirages at the edge of your vision. Almost nothing could be heard, just the slight drone of insects and the constant swish of the wind. Matoskah and Akecheta were younger, and they still had some slight chubbiness left from babyhood. Their blue eyes were round with anticipation as they took in the flat land surronding them. It was so immense and so silent it almost seemed to crush them with its' vastness. They had seen badlands and mountains and bayous, but never anything like this before. Gaho had led them very far inland, with the promise that they would see something exciting for their birthday._

_ Someone hooted in the distance, which was strange, because the plain looked positively empty. Gaho peeked over the grass then quickly ducked back down. "It's about to begin. Don't let them see you, okay?" She whispered. Matoskah nodded his head obdiently, but Akecheta looked uncertain._

_"Gaho, why not? Why can't we let them see us?" Gaho peeked out one more time before responding._

_"Because," she said, "they wouldn't understand. Also, you might distract them." She left it at that, and Akecheta didn't push it. He was still confused, though. Matoskah was too excited to really notice, or care._

_"When are we going to see it, Gaho?"_

_ A horn sounded in the distance, again a foreign sound on the sea of silence. Gaho smiled to herself. "She slowly got up and knelt in the grass and motioned for her boys to do the same. Keeping low, Gaho lifted a finger silently and pointed to the distance, where a herd of buffalo grazed._

_"Boring!" Akecheta exclaimed louldy. Gaho quickly shushed him. 'Wait' she mouthed. She pointed once more, and he grew silent._

_They watched the bison graze for a while, before one of the bison suddenly broke away from the herd. He ran a ways off, before grunting to the others, who followed. Another buffalo joined the leader, than another. Slowly, they led the bison toward a group of rocks. But, something was off. The buffalo who were leading had an odd gait, and sometimes moved in ways a buffalo shouldn't. Then, in a blink of an eye, the scene changed._

_The leaders weren't bison at all, rather men dressed in a bison's skin. The pile of rocks the boys noticed earlier formed the shaped of a funnel, wide at where the bison were, but it eventually narrowed down as it approached- approached what? It just looked like flat prairie. Beside the rocks, people began to pop up, all with drums and other loud instruments in their hands. Matoskah gasped. "Gaho!" he started urgently. "What are they trying to-"_

_ He was cut off by shouting in the distance. The hunters in disguise had made their move, and had set the herd into a frenzy. They began running into the funnel, with the men racing beside them. More than once, Akecheta and Matoskah saw a man get trampled by the hooves of the startled buffalo. The people beside the boulders beating the drums only sent them further into a rampage. It wasn't until when the fist buffalo vanished into thin air that Matoskah and Akecheta realized what they were being chased toward. It was hardly noticable, but at the end of the funnel made up of boulders, there was a cliff, or something like that. People must be waiting at the bottom to dismember the corpses. The buffalo were running blindly toward their death, and they didn't even notice. Matoskah stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out. He knew it was nature, and the people needed to eat to survive, but it was sad. He even spotted a young calf, running beside its mother. It too would die with the rest. Akecheta was just excited, though. He drank everything in like a sponge, enjoying it all._

_ But, even he had to cover his eyes when he realized and saw buffalo were jumping. They threw themselves over the cliff blindly, and he couldn't stand the sight of their wild eyes filled with terror. He and his brother snuggled against Gaho, who held them tight. She stroked their hair gently, and continued to watch. Soon, the air was filled with the unpleasant smell of blood and corpse in the sun._

_ There was only a few stragglers left when suddenly, one bison slipped through the wall of boulders, and charged straight toward Gaho and her sons. Akecheta and Maroskah, once they saw the danger they were in, both screamed, and the people at the hunt started shouting and chasing after the stray. Gaho, however, showed no fear. She stood right up and ran at the buffalo, who was charging at full speed. "GAHO!" Her sons screamed. That was their mother, a small woman, about five feet in height, facing off against 2000 pound enraged beast going about 40 miles per hour (or 64km/h, depending which one you use)._

_ When the bison was no more than ten feet away, Gaho dug in her heels and planted her feet into the ground and went into the lunge position. Arms outstretched, palms facing the animal, elbows halfway locked, she stood her ground. Right as the animal hit her hands, she grabbed a handful of its wooly hair, and, with a cry, used its momentum and swung upwards. The buffalo soared up into the air, mooing frantically. clumps of dirt went flying from the bison's hooves, one pieces nearly hitting Akecheta. Gaho swung the animal round and round a couple of times, until finally letting go. The bison sailed through the sky, landing hundreds of meters away. It got up, shook itself, and ran off, bellowing._

_ Matoskah and Akecheta stared at their mother, mouths agape, who just smiled wildly and swung her arms, whole body language seeming to say "Let's do that again!". That was the first time they had even seen their mother preform such a feat of strength. In fact, they had no idea their mother was so strong. Both was very impressed and very, very proud. How many moms do you know who can swing a full grown buffalo into the air like it was hammer throw, and not even break a sweat?_

_ The hunters had reached Gaho, and began talking to her urgently, demanding to know if she was hurt. Akecheta and Maroskah both dropped down deeper into the grass. They didn't know why, but their mother had warned them against being seen. One of the hunters in particular, a tall man with prominent muscles and an eagle feather braided into his hair, seemed particularly concerned. He gripped Gaho's arms, stroking her hair anxiously as her checked her up and down. Gaho laughed and kissed his cheeks, which calmed him down. Gaho talked to him and pointed over to where Matoskah and Akecheta lay hidden, then gestured and spoke some more._

_ "I wish we could hear what they're saying!" hissed Akecheta. Matoskah shrugged. _

_"Maybe we could, if you would shut up for once!" Akecheta was about the retort with a witty comeback, then bit his tongue, holding himself back. Gaho had told them to be quiet, so he'll be quiet. And it totally wasn't because he didn't have a witty comeback. _

_Once Gaho had finished speaking with him, the man nodded. He pondered for a whiel, them pulled out the eagle feather from his hair and took another from his companion, and handed them to Gaho. She kissed his cheeks once more, which was an odd sight. Even with the man ducking down Gaho still had to go on her tippy-toes to reach him. He made her look so petite in comparison, but, based on the show she just gave, Akecheta and Matoskah weren't going to downplay their mother._

_ The hunters went to help the ones at the bottom of the cliff with the butchering. Gaho watched them go for a while, then walked back to her sons._

_ "Who was tha-"_

_"That was so freaking cool, Gaho! Do it again, do it again!"_

_Gaho laughed. "Thank you, Matoskah. I'll try to, as soon as the next opportunity surfaces!" She gave him a sly wink, which caused Matoskah to squeal and giggle._

_"And that, " said Gaho, __turning to Akecheta, who was looking rather impatient, _"was your older brother, Niistitapa. And," she held out the two feathers,"he wanted you to have these." Akecheta and Matoskah took the feathers gingerly, as if they might break. Gifts from a mysterious person who was supposedly their brother, but they had never met before. Well, of course Gaho had maybe once or twice mentioned the idea of siblings, but Akecheta and Matoskah never really payed attention. How many other unknown brothers and sisters did they have? Gaho laughed and took their hands. "C'mon, time to go."

* * *

Niistitapa= Blackfoot

Ah, chapter four (or is it five..?), done! Timing's not too bad either. Woohoo! Anyway, I'm thinking of doing little tales like these in between parts of the story, because...Well, I don't really know. No, I lied, I do. I to write some more of Akecheta's and Matoskah's history while roaming around with Gaho and such (not to mention that they're pretty fun to write!) and it would've been a really slow start if I just put it all at the beginning and I feared most people would've gotten bored (if they're don't already). Anyway, sorry for going on about that, and thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter Four

The wails coming from inside the hut were unbearable. Filled with absolute anguish and sorrow, pain and loss, they were at an unworldly level. They went mournfully low to high with distress, weaving into a haunting melody. You could hear them from hundreds of meters away in any direction. Even the wolves, far off in the forest, heard the cries and lifted their voices to console the grievers.

Such were the cries of the mourning mother Gaho and daughter L'nu'k. They would break your heart into a thousand pieces, and even the coldest soul would've felt a stir of sympathy. So, if a normal person, without any connections to the wailers, who didn't even know then, felt their heart break, imagine how Gaho's sons would've felt standing right outside the door?

"I-I can't Akecheta. I just can't!" Matoskah strained away from his brother's grip, trying to get away from the grief and the pain, but Akecheta held fast. It took all of Akecheta's willpower though to keep from running away into the woods with his brother, away from his mother's pain, somewhere quite and safe where he could hide and not have to her the terrible cries any longer.

But he knew he couldn't. No matter how much pain it caused him, he knew that since he was the elder -wasn't he?-, he felt like he had to be the strong one, and not show any emotion. He bravely fought back the threatening tears. It was bad enough hearing Gaho cry, so how could Matoskah bear it if he saw his brother cry too? Turning his face away from Matoskah, Akecheta dragged his brother forward. Matoskah's heels left deep gouges in the earth, but Akecheta pressed forward, and eventually they made it into the hut.

Inside was a hundred times worse for both of them. Not only were the sounds louder, but they actually saw Gaho. She was in L'nu'k's lap, half of her body turned toward the wall, the other half toward her sons. Her eyes were closed, but salty tears still gushed out, leaving watery tracks down her face. Her body shook with each sob, and she would lift her head to the sky to cry out at the world. L'nu'k cried with her, stroking her hair and rocking back and forth, taking comfort in each other's sorrow.

Matoskah broke down at once at the sight. Falling to his knees, he stuffed his fist inside his mouth to keep from crying out. He didn't want his brother, who was in front of him, to think any more badly of him. Little did he know, Akecheta wasn't doing much better. His tears had overflowed, and were dripping down his chin. The sight of his mother is what finally broke him. Seeing her in such a vulnerable state, rather than her usual strong self, was too much for his little boy heart. Imagine how it would've felt to see your mother, the only person you've known for most of life, the one who was almost always smiling, always positive, always patient and calm and caring, broken.

Unable to control himself any longer, Akecheta rushed forward to Gaho, with Matoskah on his heels. "Gaho!" he cried, digging his face into his mother's skirt. "Gaho! Gaho, stop! Please!" Matoskah was right next to him, sobbing uncontrollably.

Wet patches began to form on Gaho's dress from the boys' tears. At first, neither Gaho or L'nu'k noticed the boys. It wasn't until Akecheta, not paying attention, lifted his fist and pounded against L'nu'k's thigh, that she finallay saw him. He didn't hit hard, but it was enough to catch her attention.

"Go away!" she screeched, yanking Gaho away from them. "Go away!" Her eyes had a wild look in them, like a cornered animal. She clutched Gaho in her arms, frantically backing away from the boys. "Can't you see this is all your fault?! It's all because of you!" Of course, that wasn't fully true, but how were Akecheta and Matoskah supposed to know any better? For all they knew, it really was all their fault. And Gaho was too far away in her mind to hear what her daughter was saying. She stared at them blindly, looking through them rather that at them. "She doesn't want you anymore! She hates you! Leave here! Be gone!"

Akecheta glared at her, tears streaming down his face, hands clenched into fist. He was trying hard to keep it together, trying to tell himself it wasn't true, but that little part of his brain whispered that it all made sense. No one liked him. Everyone treated him like a monster because of his skin. All the little boys he had played with earlier today, they all taunted him and his brother. They through sticks and rocks at them, while the adults did nothing but watch. They all hated him, so it would only make sense that Gaho hated him too.

"Demons!" L'nu'k snarled. Akecheta finally had enough. Turning his back on his sister and mother, he grabbed Matoskah hand and dragged him toward the door, leaving his mother's wailing and L'nu'k's insults behind them. He made a beeline straight for the cover of the forest. His plan was to live on his own with his brother, since their mother didn't want them anymore. He would run and run, far away from Gaho and his cruel sister. They could survive on their own, he was sure.

As he made his way out of the camp, Akecheta could feel the angry eyes of the people burning into his back. Matoskah didn't resist his brother, and walked dejectedly behind him, still crying.

By the time he reached the forest line, Akecheta promised to himself that never again he would shed a single tear, for Gaho or anyone else.  
He decided he wasn't going to be weak anymore.

* * *

Okay. Just for the record, I've never written anything like this beforesite give me some credits if it isn't the greatest.

Anyway, thank you all those who've followed/favorited/reviewed, it really means alot to me, truly does. And thank you for reading!


	7. Gaho and the Vikings (Part One)

_The Past_

_Gaho lay with her stomach to the rocky ground, watching the ship move toward her across the bay. It must've indeed been the magic ship she had been hearing about- a ship larger by far than any that had been seen before by her or her people. For days, she had been hearings tales from the hunters that had been returning to the Inuit summer camp. They told tales of strange visitors, which came on a huge ship, larger than any umiak ever built. And strangely, unlike a umiak, it was made not of whalebones covered with skins, but instead wholly made up of the wood of trees._

_Since the first hunter had came back with the exciting news, the camp had been filled with stories about the wonders of the strange craft. Gaho had even stayed longer than she had intended at the summer camp, anxious to hear more._

_And now, there it was, only a few hundred meters away, rapidly approaching._

_"It looks so strange!" whispered Ataciara, coming to lay down beside her. Gaho could feel her body shaking with excitement. " Where are my sons?" Gaho whispered back to Ataciara, though she wasn't sure why they were whispering. Ataciara pointed to her back, where Akecheta and Matoskah lay strapped into bundles. Suddenly, Akecheta lifted his head, and startd to wail. His brother, sensing his distress, began to cry as well._

_Ataciara reached for them, but Gaho was quicker. Sitting up, she took her babies gently, and held them in her arms. She rocked them back and forth, shushing them quietly. "Hush, my sons, I'm here. I'm right here." Once they stopped crying she lay them down beside her, gazing at them fondly._

_Ataciara couldn't help grinning at the family scene, but felt her heart squeeze for the thousandth time. She had always wished for a family to call her own, but she was born barren. So instead, she takes care of the other woman's children, to try to fill the hole in her heart. But it doesn't make up for having her own children to cradle and rock, like Gaho did. Ataciara felt her throat closes up, then looked away, so that Gaho wouldn't notice her watery eyes._

_She noticed. Gaho stared at Ataciara, but with only kindness and sympathy. "I really do appreciate you helping taking care of Akecheta and Matoskah, Ataciara. Thank you." she said kindly. And she really meant it. Most of the women had rejected Akecheta and Matoskah for their looks, and said evil things about them, gesturing and whispering furiously. Ataciara was the first one who didn't mind, and treated them like any other baby in the tribe._

_Ataciara shrugged her shoulders, gazing off into the distance. Finally she sighed, and turned back toward Gaho. "Anything for a friend, Gaho."_

_They sat together in silence, watching the ship._

_"It looks like a giant whale," commented Ataciara after a while. Truly, it was a much larger vessel than any umiak. From end to end, it must've measured almost ninety feet. "It's even larger than a whale." added Ataciara after a moment. _

_The wooden sides of the ship rose high above the water. The tip of the prow was craved in the shape of a hideous monster's head, which glared down at the sandy beach just ahead of the vessel. A towering mast rose from the center of the ship, and was draped with large square sail, which hung limply beside it. _

_The vessel landed on the beach, causing a loud hissing noise from the sand. Shouts in a language Gaho couldn't understand came from the boat, loud enough that they could hear it from up on the cliff. The crew members began to drop overboard, one after another. What strange men they were too! Ataciara tried to count their numbers, but she couldn't kelp track of their numbers, even after counting on her hands three times._  
_As Gaho watched, she couldn't help but realize that the strange men looked like her sons, in a way. They both had the same pale white skin, both had eyes the colour of the sky or the ocean, and both had pale hair like old men, even if their faces were young. As they came ashore, she studied them more. Most of them had helmets made of steel, and other were equipped with heavy breastplates and large swords that hung by their waist. Gaho and Ataciara had never seen metal weapons until now, nor the sail that was being lowered onto the ship. As they watch, they couldn't help but believe that some of it was magic._

_A small crowd of the villagers had formed behind Gaho and Ataciara, oohing and ahing over what they saw. Everything was new and strange. People gave Gaho's sons funny looks once they noted the similarities between the visitors and them. Hence the whispering among the middle-aged women commenced again, them holding their own babies against their chest and throwing Gaho looks. The newcomers still did not see the people watching them, as they were too busy working on the beach._

_Suddenly, Gaho noticed a man standing away from the others on the beach, a man who somehow caught her eye. He was shorter than the others, and didn't seem to have any weapons or armour on him, yet the rest of the men still seemed to follow his orders. And what really drew her attention on him, even if she didn't realize it at first, was that same similar spark within him._

_Sliding over to Ataciara, she whispered into her ear. "Keep care of Akcheta and Matoskah for me, will you? I'll be right back. Just going to...check some things out."_

_Ataciara's eyes lit up, but then clouded over with doubt. "What are you going to-" But Gaho was already gone, running down to the beach where the strange men were.__"Gaho!" she called, but got no response, only the crash of the waves and the shouts of the men._

* * *

__Umiak- A boat the Inuits made, constructed of whale bones or driftwood, with sealskin stretched over the frames. Normally nine to ten meters long, they can carry up to 30 people, but are still relatively light

Ataciara- Just a normal Eskimo girl Gaho befriended. Her name means 'A Familiar Spirit'


	8. Chapter Five

The Light was too bright. Gaho couldn't open her eyes; the Light would blind her. She wanted to stay in the Dark, warm, where she could hide and cower away from everything. The dark was so heavy, so, so heavy, and deliciously warm. Why couldn't she stay a while? Maybe forever.

The Light had always hurt her. Everything bad came through it, all the monsters came to stalk her in it. All the wars, all the pain, misery, heartbreak, loneliness, and sorrow existed in the Light. Surely the Light was evil, if it hurt her so much.

In the Dark, she could be safe. She needn't worry in the Dark, nothing could find her, nothing could hurt her. The Dark was her friend, surely. In the Dark, she could escape the harsh reality of the Light. She could finally release all her pent up fears that she had to keep secret in the Light, because she needed to be strong for others. In the Dark, she could be who she really was, someone who wasn't always stable. Someone who made mistakes. Someone who was afraid of the monsters, too. Someone who would love to have the tables turned, and have someone else comfort her for once.

In the Dark, someone else comforted her instead.

Mother spoke to her. Not through the trees, not through the rivers or the wind, but with her actual voice. Mother's voice is everything at once. It is loud and soft, smooth and rough, fluent and tongue-tied, fast and slow, old and young, male and female. You could hear Mother's voice whispering in your bones, or booming outside your ears, shaking the ground. Some would find Mother's voice intimidating and frightening, and would fall to their knees in fear and cry for mercy. But one thing to know, Mother's voice should never, ever frighten someone. No matter what, no matter what kind of horrors someone has committed, Mother's voice is always filled with love for Her children, all of them.

The true kind of love. The kind of love a mother has for her children, ever since the moment they're born. The kind of love that will care through all the atrocities a person does. The kind of love that fills you up like water in a vase, warming you head to toe, until you get a tingling feeling. The kind of love that stays within you, even when the person is gone, and brings you strength.

When Mother speaks to someone, directly, they know that they are loved.

Absolutely and uncompromisingly.

It was with love that Mother spoke to Gaho with. She spoke words of comfort to her daughter, promises of better days to come. Words of guidance, to lead her in case she got lost. Words that reminded Gaho that, though the Light may cause hurt, and it may seem hard, all the good things come through Light. Like the beauty of the world, with its lakes and forests and plains. Like the smiles and laughs of friends, welcoming you home from a long journey.

Like the touch of her children, who needed her so badly.

And so, with Mother's words as her artillery, Gaho fought the Dark. She pushed away from it, and struggled toward the Light. It wouldn't be easy, she knew, once she opened her eyes, but at least Gaho would know someone was watching out for her, and cheering her on. She could make it. She could get through it. But first, she needed to unopened her eyes.

Gaho opened her eyes to the light of day.


	9. Chapter Six

Akecheta didn't know where he was going. But he ran. He ran on and on, dragging his brother behind him, trying to put as much as a distance possible between him and Gaho. He ran on, even if it felt like his lungs were going to explode and his legs would tumble off. He ran on, through the forests and clearings, streams and swamps. The sun wheeled in the sky above him, but Akecheta didn't notice. He didn't care what was going on around him. He didn't care that his brother was limping and stumbling behind him, with a large cut up his leg from a low hanging tree branch. He couldn't hear his Matoskah's cries for him to stop, to slow down. Akecheta was too wrapped up in his own little world. And so, he ran.

It wasn't until the sun was low in the sky, and they had reached the bottom of a wooded hill that Akecheta finally dug in his heels and stopped. He doubled up, chest heaving. If he had anything left in his stomach, he would've retched. Blinking a couple of times, he took a few shaky steps, before blacking out.

When Akecheta woke up, the world around him didn't make sense. He was surrounded by spruces, cedars, and aspens, but how was he going to make a shelter? Akecheta couldn't remember. And he was so, so thirsty. Water was running in the background, but he couldn't see a stream anywhere. How was he going to drink? The forest around him sang with life, but he forgot how to trap a bird or how to collect nuts, if they were even in season. Once upon a time, Akecheta would've know how to do all of those things, but his mind had went inexplicably blank. He remembered Gaho teaching him and his brother how to live off the land, all of her different lessons. But when he tried to think of the lessons in detail, they slipped from his grasped. Maybe Matoskah knew.

Matoskah. Where was he? He had been beside him before he passed out, which couldn't have been long ago. But now, he was completely out of sight. Unwillingly, panic arose in Akecheta's chest. What if his brother had left him? What if Matoskah had turned around and ran back to Gaho, leaving him all alone? What would he do? Akecheta couldn't survive all by himself. That was part of his plan, he and his brother, together. He needed his Matoskah, probably more than he knew. Akecheta spun round it a circle, desperately looking for his brother.

"Matoskah! Matoskah, where are you?" Leaves rustled from the dark forest behind him. Akecheta spun around, heart pounding wildly, like a drumbeat in his chest. What was out there, watching him, stalking him? He had forgotten all about the dangers in the woods, like bears and cougars. At that moment, he felt scared and alone, like a little boy, and felt tempted to run all the way back, back into the safety of Gaho's arms.

_But that couldn't happen, _he reminded himself. Because Gaho doesn't love him anymore, and most likely never did. He was alone, and had nowhere to go. And, had most likely been abandoned by his brother.

The woods rustled again, bringing him back out of his thoughts. Whatever was in there was definitely coming closer. Akecheta stumbled back in fear, away from the sounds. His right foot accidentally caught on a protrunding tree root, and he fell back, crying out in alarm. Meanwhile, the thing was getting closer and closer. He could hear its heavy pants. Akecheta curled into a ball, and squeezed his eyes shut, imagining bright red eye, and white fangs flashing, all of the terrible things that could be coming for him. He only prayed it would be quick, painless.

"Matoskah!"He cried, one last time, before he was sure the beast would take him. He hoped that Matoskah could hear the panic in his voice, and, wherever he was, if he was maybe close, have the sense to run away.

"What?" A voice answered him. Akecheta peeked open one eye, to see his oh-so-glorious-and-wonderful brother standing over him, with a bundles of branches it his arms. He almost wept with relief. His brother hadn't abandoned him. There wasn't an evil wild animal coming to eat him. The first thing to cross his mind was that it was going to be alright.

The second thought was that Matoskah looked, frankly, like hell. He was covered in muck and blood, with various bruises all over his body. A particular gash across his thigh seeped blood. His hair, usually light blonde, looked almost brown by all the dirt and mud covered in it. And his eyes, usually bright and shining, were dull and tired-looking. In fact, all of Matoskah looked tired. His body was slumped over, and his movements were slow and clumsy. Seeing what state his brother was in, Akecheta realized he just might've been a idiot.

In the horrible condition Matoskah was in, Akecheta was surprised to see his clothes. Instead of his typical animal-skin leggings and jerkin with a belt, Matoskah was wearing a crisp clean white...thing. Akecheta didn't really know how to describe it. It was made of an strange material he had never seen before, and resembled the dresses Gaho wore, though not quite.

"What?" Matoskah asked again, breaking his train of thought. "What is it?" Something by the look on Akecheta's face must've told him. Setting the pile in his hands on the ground, he crouched beside his brother. "I'm here, its okay." he whispered softly. Akecheta knew he had promised himself that he would stay strong, but he couldn't help giving in to his emotions for just a minute. He slouched into Matoskah's arms. Was he being selfish? Probably. Matoskah was probably just as tired as he was, and it was all his fault, too, but Akecheta really just needed someone to hold him for a while. And Matoskah did. He was about dead tired, but his brother needed him.

After a while, Matoskah took his brother's hand, and pulled him gently to his feet. Leaving the wood pile behind, he led his brother up to the top of the hill. Akecheta felt like he had never done anything so hard in his life. Each step felt like a mile, and he couldn't even feel his legs anymore. But, with Matoskah's steadying hand to guide him, he made it.  
When they got to the top, Akecheta realized just how much his brother did. There was a steady fire going, with a pile of nuts and berries beside it. And a small shelter, made from laying boughs against a boulder, was to the side. Matoskah pointed to a small white bundle beside the shelter. "That's for you. You can change, and I'll go back and get the firewood." Akecheta, too tired to argue, nodded his head.

A while later, when Akecheta was changed into his new unfamiliar clothes, and the fire had been replenished, and both boys fed, they crawled up under the entrance to the shelter. Matoskah fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted, and Akecheta wasn't far behind. But, before he did, he thought of what his brother had done for him, even if it was him that got them in the mess. He thought of how hard he had worked, with the shelter, and the food, and the fire, and who knows where he got the clothes. And so, before Akecheta closed his eyes and gave into sleep, he kissed his brother's head, lightly, as to not wake him up.

"Thank you, Matoskah. I love you."

And with that, Akecheta rolled over, gave into the sweetness of the night, and fell to sleep.


	10. Gaho and the Vikings (Part Two)

_The Past_

_ Gaho watched the men silently, a shadow creeping along the beach. She hid behind rocks, sand dunes, everything. If she could get behind it, it was good enough. She wanted to watch the men without being spotted, mainly because she didn't know if they were hostile or not. Also, if there was anything she learned by living in the wild, it's always know your prey like a brother. How they think, how they act, their habits, know them. Of course, the men weren't some mere  
buck she was tracking down._

_ The more she watched them, the more fascinated she became. They were so different, in so many ways. Even their body structure was different then most men she knew. And what language were they speaking? Where did they come from? What did they want? Gaho had so many questions, her mind was nearly exploding._

_Finally finding the perfect place to watch, she sat quietly, watching in particular the man that had attracted her attention earlier, the one the others seemed to treat as a leader. He looked even more skinny and scrawny up close, nothing like the other men, almost a bit sickly. Also, they all had beards, while he was clean shaven. Strangest of all, though, was his eyes. Gaho had never seen eyes like that before. They were a vivid purple, like the lavender she would sometimes pick, or even the sunset, right where the sun is about to go down. But, then again, there were alot of things she hadn't seen apparently.  
Gaho sat watching for what seemed like an eternity. There was just so much to see, so much to learn... Eventually, her mind wandered to her sons, whom she had left on the cliff. She wondered if they were alright, and how Ataciara was doing with them. She was worried for her sons. Such strange men, so close to them. What if the men weren't friendly? What if they hated children? What if, when they find villages, they burn them down, killing everybody? What if that was happening right now? What if her sons were in danger? What if-_

_Before she even knew what was going on, Gaho was swung up into the air, pulled right out from her hiding place. One of the men had spotted her, amd was holding her by the neck, with her feet hanging loosely several feet above the ground. Gaho had her back to him, so she didn't get a good view of her attacker. He yelled out something to the other men, and they replied with laughter. The man holding her up roared, and started swinging her back and forth, like a doll. Gaho struggled, but she couldn't do much, being held by the neck. To make matters worse, she was starting to see black spot before her eyes from the lack of air. Her hands desperately clawed at the grip holding her, but the more she struggled, the tighter the man held. Gaho was enraged, furious. Woman weren't supposed to be treated like this! What gave him the right? The angry thoughts that clouded her mind only made things worse, but she couldn't help herself._

_She kept thrashing, hissing and spitting like a cat, until, by accident, she whacked her hand against a hard lump in her belt, above her waist. White hot flashes of pain shot up her hand, but Gaho couldn't have cared less. In fact, she nearly wept with relief. With her head locked in place by the hand, Gaho tried feeling around, to grab hold of her knife's hilt. Finally, she found it. Reaching down, she grasped the hilt with one hand. Gaho absolutely hated taking such measures desperate as these, but at this point, she had no other option. Yanking it out of its sheath, she brought her hand up, and slashed across her attacker's face._

_The reaction was immediate. The man threw her at once, yowling like a demon. Gaho knew he would be okay, though. She hadn't dug the blade deep enough to cause any serious damage, just enough pain for a good distraction. Gaho twisted in midair, landing lithely on her feet, knife ready in hand. She didn't like to, but she knew how to fight, if need be. Her plan was to find a clear route, and flee back to the village, where, if the men pursued, she could gather reinforcements. She had hoped the other men would be too busy attending to their wounded brother, and would've forgotten all about her, but that wasn't the case. Gaho got up to see she had been cornered, back pressed into a stone cliff, men surrounding on all sides. She did a quick assessment of the situation, just to see how good were her odds._

_ Not good._

_ All of the other men had weapons much bigger and heavier than a simple hunting knife. They had armour and shields to protect themselves with, while Gaho was bare. She was vastly outnumbered too, and the men were coming closer. They all looked the same: Same angry faces, same rage in their eyes. Gaho gulped. No, the odds weren't in her favour. Not even in the slightest. Did she have any hope of getting away? Probably not. Still, the men walked closer...closer until their bodies blocked out the sun for Gaho...closer..._

_ Gaho squeezed her eyes shut, and prayed to Mother that they would be quick. She only wishes that she could've held her sons once more, her newborn sons. What will happen to them? Will Ataciara raise them? Will they miss their mother? Against her will, tears began to well in her eyes. She wasnt ready to go yet. Her children needed her. She couldn't die-_  
_ Wait a minute. She couldn't die. That was impossible. So, why was she so afraid? Despite her predicament, Gaho almost laughed at herself for how scared she had become, all for nothing. The men would undoubtedly beat her, but she was strong. She had lived on this land for thousands of years, and had endured pains much more serious some inflicted by mortal men. She hastily dried her eyes, before straitening up, arms crossed, facing forward. She kept her eyes closed, though. So, Gaho stood with her head held high, proud as her people, ready for what may come. _  
_ A hand touched her arm._

_ Gaho waited for the strike, the pain, anything. None came. Slowly, cautiously, she opened her eyes. Was it some sort of trick, giving her a false sense of security, perhaps? But no, that wasn't it._

_ The men had retreated. Well, not fully. They were still a few meters away, glaring at her, but they kept their distance. Some of them even looked like pups, being scolded by their mother, tail between their legs. They were afraid of someone, but who? Looking down, Gaho saw that the hand was still resting on her arm, just above her elbow._

_ Oh. Him._

_ It was the man, the one she had been paying close attention to earlier. The one the others followed as a leader, even though he was smaller in stature. The one with the mysterious purple eyes, and the one she had an invisible magnetic attraction to, which was what had pulled her down to the beach in the first place. He stood with his back to her, staring down the other men, speaking what she could only assume was a threat, in a very dangerous voice that made goosebumps shivered up and down Gaho's arms. No wonder the men feared/respected him. He was terrifying, in his quiet sort of way._

_ With one command from their leader, the men turned around and walked away, grumbling underneath their breath. Then man holding her barked something at them, and they shut up at once, and set to working with their ship. Gaho was astounded why the crew takes orders from someone so much weaker and smaller than they. Strange people._

_ Gaho watched them walked away. As soon as they were a far enough distance, and were all fairly occupied and weren't paying attention to her anymore, she broke free from the purple eyed one's grasped. Quick as a snake, she brought her knife against the little crook underneath his chin. One thing she has also learned: Never, ever let the enemy take the upper hand. Even if they seem friendly, you never know. And Gaho wasn't about to take chances._

_ "You listen to me," she growled from between her teeth. She knew he had no hope of understanding her, but still. "Listen! I don't know what you're doing, or why, but I am leaving right now. I'm going to turn around, and run. And I swear, if you come after me, or my people, I will hunt you down, and I will not hesitate to kill you. Do you understand?" To make her point, Gaho dug the knife into the skin a little, drawing a small droplet of blood. She hated putting on threatening facades, but it was for her own safety and other's. She just hoped he had picked up on the tone, since he couldn't comprehend a word she was saying._

_ Gaho watched the man, to see how he would react. He didn't move, just stared at her, with those unsettling purple eyes. She imagined him looking down, down into the bottom of her soul, examining her. They say eyes are the windows to the soul, but he took it a bit too far. He was still quite young, too. Gaho could tell, from appearance at least, that he was no older than about twenty summers. She had never noticed before, because she had thought it was just a trick of the light, but his hair was white. It couldn't have been with old age, but it was as white as the tundra snow. Strange people indeed._

_ As his eyes bored through hers, she felt something, down in the pit of her stomach. A little click, like a key falling into a lock. Gaho had never felt something like that before._

_Before she could think further, man broke eye contact with her, and shrugged his shoulders._

_ "Fine. Go."_

_ Gaho nearly spat all over his face._

_ "Did you just-? ...I mean, can you-? ...?"_

_ To her extreme irritation, the man chuckled._

_ "What's so funny?" It came out sharper than she had intended, but she really didn't care. "Alright, I want answers, and I want them _now_. Who are you? What are you? What is your business here? Are there more of you coming? Where did you come from? How long will you stay? Are you hostile? Did you come for war? Why did you-"_

_ "My name is Emil."_

_ We'll that was sudden. Gaho wasn't expecting him to cut her off like that. "Oh, um, I'm..." She didn't want to tell him her name right away. Names are power, and you should never reveal to a stranger you have just met, especially whose men had just tried to kill you. Gaho racked her brains for fake names she could use, while Emil stood there peering at her with those unusual eyes. Gah! Shee couldn't think, with him staring at her like that! Accidentally, she remembered a girl she had met a couple hundred years back, when she had traveled farther down south than her normal journey, to see her nephew Aztec. The girl died from a scorpion sting, but not before Gaho learned her name. Before she could stop herself she burst out:_

_ "Nayeli."_

_Gaho's mind just about exploded from the embarrassment. Why? Of all he names she could've picked, why that one? Why not Enola, or Tanis? Why, oh why that one? She wished that a huge wave would come and sweep her away, or a hole would swallow her up. Gaho quickly covered her face with her hands, so Emil wouldn't see her face, burning with shame. Why didn't he just walk away?_

_He obviously seemed to notice her discomfort. "Is something wrong, Nayeli?" _  
_Gaho cringed at the use of that name, especially when he said it. Anything but that name, anything. But, it was too late now to save face, so she might as well roll with it. He probably didn't know the meaning, which was alright._

_Taking a deep breath, Gaho took her hands away from her face, and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, Emil. Sorry." Becoming serious again, she sat against a boulder, and motioned he do the same. "Now, explain __everything__."_

* * *

If you have no idea what is going on, please refer to Chapter Eight.

Also, did you know that today, October 7th, is the 250th anniversary of the Royal Proclamation, which was issued by King George III back in 1763? Among other things, the proclamation said that indigenous people are the allies of the British, and that indigenous land will be protected from being taken up by settler people until treaties are in place. The Proclamation is now a founding legal document of First Nations land rights, which are important considerations for federal government policy, including plans for resource development.

The more you know.

And for homework, look up the definition of Nayeli yourself.

Thanks for reading!


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